The mid-seventies were, among other styles, John Denver's heyday. This song is a parody of his style, and it takes his down-home sentiment to an extreme. But I decided to do it in close harmony, since my baritone lost its ability to sing high notes a long time ago.

I live out in the country
Where everything's so clear
So here's my invitation
For you city-folk to move out here.

Oh come on:
Everybody move to the country
Everybody get in line!
Just leave the town and come on down
To this farmland of mine.

Don't mess with it no longer
Leave worry and care behind
There's plenty of room in the country
To ease your worried mind.

Just pack your kids and families
And drive out West with me
You can park your Fords and your Oldsmobiles
At the rear of the south for-ty.

Oh come on:
Everybody move to the country
Everybody get in line!
Just leave the town and come on down
To this farmland of mine.

There's lotsa room in the country
Enough for a billion or so
Some of you can sleep in my room
And the rest with my brother, Joe.

We'll have a country dinner
A feast you've never seen!
We'll slice the ham and the cornbread thin
And you each can have a bean.

Oh come on:
Everybody move to the country
For wisdom, health and wealth!
And when you're gone and it's all alone
I'll have New York to myself, oh!
I'll have New York to myself!